


On Underdeveloped Worlds

by ItsClydeBitches



Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Gen, Humor, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Tumblr: otpprompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-02 23:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4077916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsClydeBitches/pseuds/ItsClydeBitches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fills from tumblr's OTPprompts. Brief excerpts of each prompt - for the most recent chapters - listed below. </p><p>Chapter Six: "Person A comforts Person B during an intense thunder storm."</p><p>Chapter Seven: "Person A of your OTP is in charge of the gate that allows automatic access to the parking lot Person B always parks in... Person A is purposely keeping the gate from opening because Person A has become attracted to Person B's voice."</p><p>Chapter Eight (Prompt): "Caine has a wardrobe malfunction of some kind. The only thing Jupiter has that can accommodate his wings is a stretchy backless dress. Bonus points if they're in Jupiter's family's house"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stuck on You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Imagine person A getting their tongue stuck on a telephone pole and person B trying to find a way to get them unstuck."

“How did this even happen?” Kiza wondered. She stared at her Queen, thigh deep in snow, bunny-eared hat askew, a remarkably fierce expression gracing her features…

… and her tongue stuck solidly to their birdfeeder pole.

“Eada aired ee oo.” Jupiter grumbled. Well. Grumbled as best she could.

“ _What?_ ”

“Vladie dared her to,” Caine snapped. He was surprisingly stoic given the situation. Kiza had only heard him whine twice in the last thirty seconds. He did keep lunging forward through the snow though, making aborted attempts to grasp Jupiter whenever she winced in discomfort, then stepping back to huff and droop his non-existent tail. Kiza rolled her eyes.

“Your cousin dared you to lick a pole? And you  _listened_?”

“Kiza,” Stinger sighed.

“And you decide to do this at  _our_  house? No offense, Your Majesty, but I’m not sure you should be in charge of any planets.”

“Kiza!”

“Would you just go get the spray?” Caine growled. Jupiter suddenly let out a pained gasp as she tried to pull back again and this time Caine actually touched her. One arm went around her shoulders while the other flapped uselessly near her face. Kiza could pretty much see her dad’s migraine forming as he rubbed gloved hands over his eyes.

“We’re not using highly advanced medicine just to unstick a tongue,” he muttered. Then Stinger paused, added, “Even a royal tongue.”

“Then call the Terra medics!”

“… That’s not necessary either, Caine.”

“Ust oo uming,” Jupiter moaned.  Her head drifted forward and then Caine had something to do with his other hand. It cushioned Jupiter’s forehead against the pole, lightly kneading the skin there as she glared into his palm and attempted to mutter obscenities.

Stinger took another moment to just stare at them in wonderment before he turned to Kiza. “Run back to the house and get a bucket of hot water.”

“No way.” Kiza deliberately leaned up against the nearest tree. “I’m not missing any of this fun. No doubt they’ll do something else stupid while I’m gone and I’ll miss it.”

In her frustration Jupiter wacked the pole with her gravity boot. The whole thing vibrated and she let out a mini shriek at the sensation. Caine flailed some more, letting out a sympathetic whine of his own, Jupiter hissed at the pole like a snake.

Kiza turned on Stinger and raised an eyebrow.

“Oh fine. I’ll be back in ten.”

He stomped off and Kiza went back to watching her friends make fools of themselves.

“You could do something,” Caine shot at her after another—not quite silent—snort. Kiza outright laughed at that and shot a snowball at his head.

“Me? I’m not who she needs.” Leaning further into the tree, Kiza struck a seductive pose, arm behind her head and hips angled towards Caine. “She needs  _warmth_ , puppy-dog. You really want  _me_ providing that?” With a grin Kiza tossed another snowball, delighted when it smacked him right in his ridiculously stunned face. Shaking the ice away, Caine turned to Jupiter.

“Your Majesty?” he asked tentatively.

Jupiter smiled. Or tried too. When that just lead to more pain she gave him a purple, woolen thumbs up.

Kiza got out her phone just in time. It admittedly wasn’t the most romantic of situations, but Caine did a damn good job of working around that. Moving behind Jupiter, he put one arm across her waist while the other gently titled her head as far as it would go. Then, leaning carefully around her shoulders, he closed the distance between their mouths. Opening his own to reveal a row of sharp teeth, Caine let out a puff of air so gentle it outright contradicted the rest of his black, winged ensemble. Reverently, he breathed against her with something like a contented sigh.

Kiza watched as Jupiter shivered and Caine’s ears perked in response. She switched from picture to video with no shame. No shame at all.

It probably wouldn’t have worked with another full human, but Caine, as a wolf splice, had a pretty high core temperature. Within a few minutes he’d puffed enough against Jupiter’s tongue that the ice adhering it to the pole had melted. Slowly and tenderly, he was able to pull her away.

“There you are, Your Majesty,” he said, voice gruff.

“Ahhh,” Jupiter drew her tongue back into her mouth, made a rather hilarious face, scooped a handful of snow into her palm and carefully washed the taste away. Within moments she was smiling again, red lips glistening.

“Thanks,” she murmured. Caine shyly dipped his head.

“What am I then? Beeswax?”

Jupiter rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Kiza. Ooo…” she lifted a hand back to her mouth, frowning. “Damn. That’s gonna be sore for a while. Feels like I got stung…”

“Like you’d know what that feels like,” Kiza said, wading over. She reached on tiptoe to throw an arm companionably around Caine’s shoulder. He watched her in turn, warily. “You know what your stupidity means though, right?”

“… What?”

“You get to tell that cousin of yours you won the dare. Loser.” Kiza dragged Jupiter into their tiny circle. “We should celebrate.”

“Really.”

“Yep. How about snow cones?”

Caine gazed in exasperation across Kiza’s head. The romance, for the moment, was quite dead.

“Your Majesty. May I shoot her?”

Or maybe not.

Romance or no, Kiza’s little comment ignited a snowball fight of fairly epic proportions… just as she’d intended. Stinger returned after ten minute’s time, just as he’d promised, and found his Queen free from her icy bond, his daughter taking refuge behind a tree, and his soon to be ex-friend flying overhead, pummeling them both with snowballs. None of them noticed his arrival.

With exaggerated care, Stinger set the bucket of hot water down on the ground.

“Don’t mind me,” he muttered, turning away. “You kids have your fun. I’ll just be back at the house, filling the Oreos Her Majesty brought with toothpaste and all your shampoo bottles with honey. Yes siree…”

(And a Stinger, as they found, never goes back on his word).  


	2. Recurrence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "After person B's death, person A covers the walls of their home with sticky notes describing person B's characteristics..."

He’d assumed that She’d survive.

How could he not, given all that they’d been through together? Attacks from all sides, free falls through the atmosphere, the Ageis’ shields failing and guns aimed square between Her eyes…

Besides, She was Entitled. They were immortal—or as good as. The Abrasaxs were enduring proof of that.

… She was an Abrasax.

“She was an Earthling,” Stinger said gruffly and tore the sheet of paper out of Caine’s hand. The half-written A-B-R-A-S was crushed amidst his palm, then obliterated as it was tossed into the fireplace. He slapped another post-it note atop the piano, scribbled out ‘Earth,’ and practically slammed it against the wall. It hung there, trembling slightly in the breeze caused by both their breaths.

“Damn it, boy.” Stinger said. “If you’re gonna fuck up my house this way, do it right.”

If you’re going to… a bit late now. Caine had been covering Stinger’s walls with post-its for weeks—had been attempting it for far longer. The first batch had come down in a rain of anger, Stinger’s newly reclaimed wings sweeping them out of his house, Caine’s fists connecting far more solidly than the last time they’d tried this. It had continued for almost an hour, until Kiza returned and shrieked louder than both their roars, almost hysterical in her declaration that they weren’t the only ones who missed Her and, fuck you both, destroying this place wasn’t going to solve shit. Get your heads outta your asses and clean this place up. Make it fit for a Queen. … So they did, cleaning the notes up along with everything else.

Caine started up again the next day and this time Stinger didn’t stop him.

‘Beautiful’ was placed along the bookshelf, ‘solid’ across Stinger’s chair, ‘kind’ on the coaster She’d asked for when Kiza brought her lemonade, ‘playful’ over the doorway where the bees had to pass through, that note waving like Her hand had through the air, teasing them. Teasing them all.

There weren’t any bees now though. Winter had killed them. Caine understood the danger of cold as he traced the ‘Earth’ above their fireplace. He wondered why he hadn’t written Her name first. 

Maybe he wasn’t ready.

“Here.”

Kiza gave him notes sometimes, written in her curling scrawl. This particular set said ‘smells like grass’ and ‘awkward’ and ‘loves flannel waaaay too much.’

(He adored her in that moment for the present ‘loves’). 

With a grunt Caine strode right to the bronze dog tucked into the corner, the one so layered in dust it practically looked white. Shaking it off, he tacked the post-it note to the nose again and again until it finally stuck. It looked like the dog was biting ‘awkward’ right through the middle.

Stinger sucked in air and coughed violently, the closest any of them had come to a laugh in an age.

As winter deepened their notes spread, encompassing the household in a symphony of color that was hilariously contrasting, both to the weather and the writing’s singular purpose. Caine spent a week just composing about smells. Of course Kiza would say grass—it was one of the strongest that had adhered to Her in those days, beyond ‘sweat’ and ‘fear’—but there was so much more to Her scent than that. He filled square after square until the far wall was a forest of green. Stinger stood and looked when he’d finished, shaking his head, watching the notes flutter like blades and said, “Didn’t my daughter already write ‘grass’? Learn to be concise.”

He wasn’t concise. Not at all. Caine filled the downstairs with notes about Her and when that was done he filled the upstairs with Them. Stinger was truly supportive with that, allowing Caine to plaster his bedroom with words no splicer should read about his subordinate or his Queen. Kiza stepped aside too, relinquishing her own room to a sea of adjectives that she sometimes questioned. Were they all real? Was Caine making them up? Or were they simply hopes of what he might have discovered with time—hopes of what might have been?

Kiza didn’t know and she didn’t dare ask. What she did instead was glare at the cashier who looked at her funny as she bought ten more packets of post-it notes.

Her room turned into a sea.

The downstairs was still a forest.

Stinger’s space became a desert.

And still Caine wrote.

By the time the winter clouds blew off, there was nowhere left to memorialize. When Stinger saw the first dandelion peeking out from beneath his porch, that was the same day Caine set down his pen. They heard the returning hum of bees the morning he placed the last post-it on their front door—the very first part of the house She’d touched.

The second Caine pulled his fingers back… the bees. The bees came to them, and they came in droves.

At first Stinger thought the hives had gone mad and Kiza must have thought the same because she came tearing down the stairs, fluttering descriptions in her wake, screaming about them  _coming_. The elder Apini could feel it then too and they both had to drag Caine away, his own wolf genetics unable to pick up on the urgency, the fully human parts of him unwilling to leave the replacement he’d spent months crafting. Stinger had Caine in a headlock as Kiza tugged mercilessly at his legs, the two of them heaving him out the door seconds before the bees rushed in.

‘Rushed’ was the optimal word. One moment their house was empty of all but memories, the next is swarmed with bees through the doors, windows, and small cracks in the walls. The three residents fell in a tangle just outside, watching in mute, fascinated horror as the bees became a whirlwind and then as the whirlwind took on color—the notes ripping from their places and flying knife-like through the air. It seemed to Kiza that the mass of bees and words were converging on something in the middle of their living room… except that when a stray note flew by her ear, cutting her in the process, she found that the paper was curiously blank.

Then, as quickly as it had come, it was gone. All of it.

The bees returned to their hives, lazy now and meandering in drunk, happy circles. The notes had disintegrated into colorless ash… except for two. At the center of their home lay a body, naked, darker in color but otherwise familiar in form… and smell. Stinger was the first to creep back inside, his eyes flashing gold as he saw the words covering that body, then widening as the body stirred.

“‘Recurrence,’” Kiza whispered in awe. It was one of the two remaining post-its, stuck to the person’s—the  _woman’s_ —forehead. Lime green, it indeed had ‘recurrence’ scrawled diagonally in Caine’s hand, one of the first words he’d felt compelled to write. Before Kiza could get a closer look though, Caine himself had shoved her aside, dropping to his knees and stopping—just a hair’s breadth away— from actually touching the woman inked in his words.

Instead Caine settled on his knees, a low whine pooling deep from his throat. He didn’t touch her yet, but she  _was_ stirring, and soon she would wake.

For now, all their eyes were focused on the last note tacked atop her heart. The one word Caine had never managed to write, but had replaced with ‘Majesty,’ ‘Queen,’ and ‘Love.’

Caine read it aloud for all of them to hear.

“ _Jupiter_ ,” he said, laughing and howling in a manner only he could manage. Celebrating and weeping all at once. “Jupiter, Jupiter, Jupiter Jones.” 


	3. Through the Clouds

Jupiter didn’t think she’d ever get used to this. Nose nearly pressed to the glass, she stared out at the encompassing darkness, pinprick stars and planets striving for her attention. She heard the subtle _woosh_  of a door opening behind her and a second later she could just make out T’sing’s reflection. Jupiter smiled, knowing exactly what her friend would say.

“Still not sick of it, Your Majesty?” The captain came to stand beside her.

“Not a bit.”

“You’re sure? I have it on good authority that space gets quite boring after a while.”

“Well sorry, but your source sucks.”

Both women laughed quietly, leaning close together. It had been like this for nearly a year now, ever since Captain T’sing had helped Jupiter discover her destiny, as cliché as that might sound. Really. It was what would have seemed, to most, to be something out of a Sci Fi flick: a lonely maid and a disciplined captain doing her routine tour of Earth, an unexpected attack by aliens, the reveal that the maid was truly a queen… Jupiter had barely escaped Balem’s clutches and she certainly hadn’t done so unscathed, but the two women had forged a bond through their battle that would, Jupiter hoped, last a lifetime. As it was, she was happy just to explore space for a bit on the Aegis, see the universe she was supposedly meant to rule.

“Your mother called,” T’sing said. Her voice took on an apologetic tint. “I’m afraid I had to let it go unanswered. Our hologram is on the fritz and I’m sure you wouldn’t want her seeing you on the Aegis.”

Jupiter shot her a look. “No,” she drawled. “How did you guess? I mean c’mon, mom isn’t big on Earth tech, but she’s not stupid. Even I can’t pass this place off as a Skype background.”

“I assure you, we’ll have everything back up and running as soon as possible.”

“No hurry. I still gotta figure out what I’m going to say. Pretending to be on scholarship in London when you’re not actually studying Astrology there isn’t easy.”

T’sing’s lips twitched. “You could always tell her the marvelous things you’re learning about Syron Stars.”

“Oh yeah, great storytelling, considering Earth hasn’t even  _discovered_  those yet.” Jupiter nudged T’sing in the ribs. “You know, I almost started describing a black hole to her last week? Like, in the  _I-could-see-everything-because-SPACE-TECH-and-btw-time-around-those-things-is-WEIRD_  kinda way? I could barely stop myself. I swear, one of these days I’m going to— _oh_.”

“Oh?”

T’sing jumped as Jupiter grabbed hold of her wrist. “What is  _that_?”

The Aegis generally moved fast, carrying its royal cargo between solar systems so that she might see the planets rather than just the stars. They were drifting now though and Jupiter could make out a cluster of what looked like gasses ahed: swirling purple clouds that were nearly as long as the ship itself, filling a small pocket of space with light, ethereal beauty. They were close enough that Jupiter could see how they burned out and re-sparked, almost like a fountain in the sky, churning the same water again and again. Jupiter thought herself silly for comparing the clouds to water until something leaped out of the top of it.

“ _What?_ ” Jupiter’s jaw unhinged. “ _How?_ ”

“A space mermaid,” T’sing breathed and then her cheeks darkened at Jupiter’s look. “Ah… I fear there’s no scientific name for them as of yet, Your Majesty. Most still believe them to be myth…” Her voice grew distant again. “The tales say they live in those clouds, swimming, feeding off whatever passes their way… including humans and splices.” T’sing suddenly turned. “I must man the ship. We’ll leave this place at once, Your Majesty.”

“No, wait!”

Jupiter caught T’sing’s arm, but her eyes never left those clouds. She waited… waited… and there! She saw the mermaid again, flying high and flipping before arching back into the purple mist. Jupiter caught sight of pale skin and a blue tale before it disappeared from view completely.

“Stop the ship,” she whispered.

“What?”

“Stop the ship!” Jupiter cried and tore out of the room, T’sing running and shouting behind her.

***

“It is with the upmost respect that I say you’re a fool to do this, Your Majesty.”

T’sing was glaring at her. Jupiter was grinning back. She rocked happily on her heels as Nesh fit the helmet against the suit, riding up her neck.

“This is stupid,” T’sing hissed.

“WHAT? Sorry. Can’t hear you!”

“You can hear me just fine.”

“Aw, c’mon.” Jupiter ran a bit in place, testing out the suit’s limitations. “Where’s your sense of adventure? There’s a space mermaid out there! You can’t just ignore a space mermaid. Besides, it’s not like I’ve never gone outside before.”

“Not to encounter a potentially carnivorous creature, you haven’t! Your Majesty, please, allow me to send someone else in your place. If it proves safe you may go out then. We don’t even know if this thing is sentient…”

“No way,” Jupiter said. She shivered a bit as Nesh connected her to the life support. “I know you, Diomika. You say I’ll get to go out, but that’s a total lie. You’ll find something dangerous out there - whether it exists or not - and I’ll be stuck staring through the window for another thirty days.” Jupiter threw a look over her shoulder. “These star systems are too far apart, huh, Nesh?”

He trumpeted in assent.

“One sign,” T’sing said grimly. “The slightly sign you’re in danger and we are reeling you back inside, Your Majesty, whether you wish to come or not. You may court marshal me after I’ve saved your life.”

“Sounds great.” Jupiter clasped her hand. “If mom calls again don’t tell her I’m meeting a space mermaid.”

“Just don’t get eaten, Your Majesty.”

***

Getting eaten was the farthest thing from Jupiter’s mind. She floated out away from the Aegis, moving from the blackness of space into the purple mass of clouds. As she entered though (a silly part of Jupiter holding her breath), she noticed that it wasn’t  _really_  purple, but rather a thousand different shades overlapping: lilac, imperial, amethyst, fuchsia, petunia, eggplant, more pastels than she could count. Jupiter ran her hand in front of her, delighting when a wave of colors rippled before her. It was like floating through a dream.

“ _Your Majesty?_ ”

“Fine,” she said, the word coming out breathless. Jupiter cleared her throat and tried to speak more firmly into her speaker. “I’m fine, Diomika.”

An iffy huff came over the line. Jupiter ignored it.

In fact, she was so enthralled by the clouds that she almost forgot what was living in them.

Until the mermaid came shooting up from below that was, stopping just a few inches from her helmet.

“ _Whoa!_ ” Jupiter yelled, then immediately started spluttering more, “I’m fine, I’m fine”s as T’sing squawked in her ear. She was a bit preoccupied though and eventually Jupiter’s voice tapered off, dwindling in the face of the creature before her.

“Whoa,” she breathed again. 

‘Creature’ seemed harsh, but it was the only word Jupiter could think of that fit. She’d seen all sorts of aliens in her travels thus far, human and otherwise, but nothing held a candle to  _this_. The mermaid (merman? Space merman? Mer _dog_?) was undoubtably male, with the face of a man - complete with a crop of blonde hair and beard - but with gills that somehow seemed to work in the fastness of space, pointed ears, warm canine eyes, and, of course, the tail. It was midnight blue and flicked curiously as he stared at Jupiter.

He was also, unquestionably,  _hot_.

“Hello,” Jupiter whispered. There was silence on the Aegis’ end. They seemed to realize she wasn’t speaking to them.

“Hello,” the merman said. His voice was gruff, somewhat tentative, but with enough strength that Jupiter was immediately grinning. He swam around her, bumping his nose lightly against her suit. “This isn’t yours,” he murmured.

“No,” Jupiter laughed. “I’m human. This just let’s me breathe and stuff and… and… wow. You’re not gonna eat me, right? No, no you’re not, oh  _man_. You’re, uh…?”

He blinked at her, dipping and twirling - constantly moving. “Caine.”

“Your species is called Caines?”

A furrowed brow and a whack of his tail: “Species? I’m Caine. There’s another called Stinger. You’re Human?”

“I’m Jupiter.”

“Jupiter…”

Caine’s face was directly before hers now, peering at her through the visor. He starred at her for a while - at her hair, Jupiter thought - before diving down lightning fast. Jupiter felt a bump against her boots and giggled.

“No tail…” she heard Caine say. “You  _are_  human. Stinger said you had two, useless tails. I didn’t believe him.” 

Jupiter laughed again. “They’re called legs. Humans have legs–this is amazing! Okay wait, how do you _move_  like that? We’re in space.”

Caine was circling her now, nudging her sides and neck and arms. Jupiter blushed when one nudge hit her ass. “My tail harnesses the remnants of gravity from nearby planets and black holes, redirecting it into differential equation slips so I can surf through space.”

“… yeah. I heard ‘gravity’ and ‘surf.’”

Caine cocked his head. “Up and down is easy when you create your own.”

“Oh. Okay. Thanks.”

“And you?” 

“I walk, when there’s stuff to actually walk  _on_ …” 

Caine shook his head. “‘Walk.’ You’re so small… Stinger will never believe that I saw a real human…”

“Yeah well, my friends back home would never believe I saw a real merman. Hey,” Jupiter reached out to catch his hand. It wasn’t easy, drifting aimlessly as she was, but Caine immediately darted forward to clear the distance. “I’ve got other friends. On that ship. Want to meet them? We can be friends too.”

That head tilt again. Jupiter couldn’t help but be reminded of a curious dog.

“Friends? Why?” It was an honest, quiet question. “You’re human. I have more in common with a fish than I do with you.”

“I love fish! I’ve always loved fish!”

“ _You’re Majesty…_ ”

Jupiter suddenly remembered T’sing listening in. “Uh…”

“Just bring him in,” T’sing sighed. It seemed like the excitement of finding a merman had worn off. Not for Jupiter though. “Just come inside. We’ll pick up his friend too if we spot him. So long as they promise not to snack on us, we can have a nice interspecies luncheon…”

Jupiter was laughing again. She stared at Caine and Caine stared back. “Hey, Diomika. Think I should tell my mom all this when she calls back?”

“Haha, Your Majesty.”

“‘Your Majesty,’” Caine echoed, his eyes going wide. “You’re a human queen.”

“And you’re a space-dog-wolf-boy.” Jupiter grinned. “C’mon. Come inside with me?”

Jupiter held out her hand, and this time when Caine took it he linked his fingers with hers.


	4. Midnight Snack

  
“Thank you,” Jupiter said.

She wove her hand into Caine’s, enjoying the residual warmth from the towels they’d been given. Everything back at the restaurant had been neat and clean and  _fancy_ , a far cry from the Bolotnikov table where you were just as likely to end up with food in your hair as in your mouth. She swung their arms, humming as she remembered Vladie upending a whole bowl of peas over Nino’s head. That hadn’t ended well.

“Dollar for your thoughts?” Caine murmured.

“Penny.”

“… A dollar is worth more.”

Jupiter laughed. She skipped ahead, catching Caine’s other hand and turning so that they were connected by their outstretched arms. She wobbled slightly—moving backwards in heels was no joke—but she had a pretty awesome splice helping to balance her.

“Even a dollar isn’t worth much compared to that meal,” she teased. “Where exactly did you get the money for that anyway? You could have at least let me see the check!”

Caine shrugged. The light blush dusting his cheeks was noticeable even under the stars.

“Stinger,” he said.

“And where did  _Stinger_ get that kind of cash?”

“….”

“Never mind.” Jupiter held up a hand. “The less I know the better, huh? You realize that I’m paying him back though, right? What’s the point of being a super rich space queen if you can’t indulge in tiny, over-priced dishes every once in a while … huh.”

“Your Majesty? What’s wrong? ” Caine stopped their momentum, immediately cradling her cheek as a guilty expression crossed Jupiter’s face. She glanced up at him sheepishly.

“Uh… that offer still on the table?”

“Offer?”

Laughing nervously, Jupiter pulled a couple bills from her clutch. “Not that the meal wasn’t great—because it  _was_ , foie gras  _rocks_ —but while mouthwatering, yeah, it was also… sorta… small. Growing space queen here. Well, growing out anyways. How awful would I be if I asked for a midnight snack?”

“Snack?”

Now that he’d confirmed that she was neither injured nor upset, Caine seemed incapable of anything other than staring at Jupiter, repeating her own words back to her. (Parrot genes in the mix somewhere? Quite possibly). He got like this sometimes, particularly after dates. Or when Jupiter came home from work. Or woke up in the morning. Or basically existed. The point was her makeup and cocktail dress did little to help his situation, while the soft lighting of the street lamps gave their night an ethereal, inevitable feel. Jupiter took the hand still cradling her cheek and gently brought it to her lips.

“What’s even better than buying thoughts,” she whispered. “Is milkshakes. Ever had a milkshake, Caine? Thick. Syrupy. An iced glass and one straw between us. How’d you like to share that with me? Stay out all night… watch the sun rise… you might have to find a way to keep me warm in this chill though…”

During this Jupiter had sauntered forward, edging closer as Caine’s eyes blew wider. She pressed herself between his legs, swung her arms up around his neck, shifted her hips just an inch to the left, and—

—froze at the massive rumble she felt along Caine’s stomach.

“Your Majesty.” He shut his eyes in shame.

“ _Oh shit_ ,” Jupiter laughed and buried her face in the crook of his neck. “Right. Of course. Growing space queen. Growing ex-legion too. We didn’t think this through, did we?” She shook there a moment until she felt him relaxing beneath her touch. Caine hadn’t quite gotten the handle of smiling with his mouth yet, but Jupiter thought she felt a smile in the way his fingers traversed her hair.

“A midnight snack sounds… good,” he admitted.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Caine?”

“Mm?”

“Romance be damned. We’re getting two milkshakes.” 


	5. Bear and Ready

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Whilst away at a cabin, in the middle of a make out session, person A asks person B if they brought protection, where person B replies whilst looking around in a completely serious panic, 'Why, are there bears or something?!'"

Jupiter stood snickering in the middle of the room, her hair and boots sogging up the plush carpet. Bear carpet. There was a literal bear-skinned rug in front of a fireplace with a stag’s head looking down on them _oh my god._

 

“They’re not real,” Caine said, clearly mistaking her reaction. He set down the rest of their luggage. “Stinger would never kill another living creature.” He paused. Reconsidered. “Another animal. The non-metaphorical kind.”

 

She wiped tears from her eyes and blamed it on the cold. “Uh huh. Caine. I had no idea Stinger was such a romantic.”

 

“This is romantic?”

 

“This is hilarious.”

 

When he’d said ‘cabin in the woods’ Jupiter hadn’t expected the stereotypical variety, right down to actual logs, homey entrance, a kitchen stocked full of stew and hot cocoa, to say nothing of the little bedroom upstairs, the one that Jupiter would bet a good chunk of her inheritance had a quilt thrown over the bed. She was actually quite looking forward to using that...

 

Though they’d absolutely have to try out the bear too.

 

She was still chuckling as she toed off her boots, regular Uggs for once instead of gravity-defying awesomeness. They’d opted for a technology free weekend. Or rather, an absence of alien technology. Like hell would Jupiter be caught without her phone when her family inevitably had some sort drama that needed fixing. Whether that family ended up being the Russian one or the Space one (or both) remained to be seen.

 

She poked a carved figurine on the mantlepiece. A groundhog? Beaver? Sorta hard to tell.

 

“Did Stinger build all this himself?” Jupiter called, hearing Caine puttering in the kitchen.

 

“Most of it. He bought the land cheap from a contact after... you know. Picked Earth for a variety of reasons. Safe place to raise Kiza. Bees. Training doesn’t leave you easy though. Stinger probably build this place as a safe-house, even if he won’t admit it.”

 

Jupiter nodded. She could see it. T’sing had dropped them off in the middle of nowhere (right before she left with a number of innuendos spilling from her lips) and Jupiter couldn’t imagine that anyone could get at them easily without a ship. Or even knew this cabin was here. Not that it wasn't a nice place. Far from it. Safe-house it might be, but Stinger had certainly gone out of his way to make it cozy. In fact, looking around at just how stereotypical it all was, Jupiter couldn’t help but wonder if he’d meant the decor seriously. She could just imagine a new-to-Earth Stinger watching some awful, pay-per-view movie and thinking that’s actually how Earthlings lived.

 

She gave the beaver/groundhog’s head a last flick. Jupiter loved her boys. They were so wonderfully stupid.

 

Made for a nice weekend though.

 

“What are you doing in there anyway?”

 

Caine chose that moment to wander back in, smiling that tiny smile he reserved only for Jupiter. He’d deposited his coat and hat somewhere, revealing his ears and letting his wings spread out out across the expanse of the room. It took Jupiter a moment to realize he had drinks in his hands because her boyfriend in jeans and plaid looked so damn _good_.

 

“Here,” he murmured, pressing a wineglass into her hand. Jupiter took it with a smile of her own, letting Caine use his free hand to open up her own coat, slipping it from her shoulders. It fell on top of her boots... as well as her hat, gloves, outer sweater... Caine was working methodically on the buttons of her shirt when Jupiter playfully pushed him away.

 

“We’ve been here five minutes,” she laughed.

 

“Exactly, Your Majesty. Five minutes out of only four-thousand three-hundred and twenty.”

 

“Really?” Despite her protest, Jupiter let her head fall back, giving Caine access to her neck. “Four-thousand three-hundred and twenty sounds like a lot.”

 

“Four-thousand three-hundred and _fifteen_ now.”

 

“Oh no.”

 

“Exactly my point.”

 

Why he’d bothered with wine if he wanted this, Jupiter didn’t know. She stretched her arm up, trying to deposit her class on the mantelpiece... and then she really did stop.

 

“Caine,” she whispered.

 

“... yes?”

 

“The beaver-groundhog is staring at us.”

 

Caine pulled back with the most adorably confused expression. “The _what?_ ”

 

“Nothing.” With a laugh Jupiter lightly moved him aside, striding to their bags in just her jeans, bare feet, and a shirt that was now open enough to show her bra. Seven months together and they’d finally passed the stage where they needed to ravish each other quick and dirty. Actually had the time now to do otherwise - despite Caine’s earlier fervor. It was a pretty great feeling actually, strutting about, taking her time, knowing that they had three whole days ahead of them to do _anything_ they wanted.

 

Still, Jupiter wasn’t opposed to getting started. No time like the present. 

 

She grinned, motioning for Caine to make himself comfortable on that ridiculous rug, watching as he struggled valiantly to keep his wings out of the fire. He knocked about a few sparks as it was, cursing in some unknown tongue when the tips of his feathers were singed. Jupiter left him to it. Nothing like minor injuries to improve the mood.

 

“Nice of Stinger to set all this up for us,” she said, trying to distract him. “Stocked kitchen, roaring fire waiting for us...” Hmm. Maybe reminding him of the enemy wasn’t the best idea. “Easy there, tiger. Just let me grab the tools...”

 

Except that when Jupiter went for the condoms - the ones she was _sure_  she’d put under her underwear - she found nothing. Nothing except a few toys that is and as fun as they would be, they weren’t the sort of ‘tools’ she was looking for just now.

 

She’d packed clothes, toothbrush, toys, one of those inflatable sleds... surely she’d remembered condoms too.

 

Jupiter glared down at her underwear.

 

“Caine, did you bring protection?”

 

“Of course.”

 

Her heart leapt in relief. But a second later Jupiter heard a familiar ‘clik’ and looked up to find Caine with his gun out - his _literal_ gun- aiming it safely up at the ceiling. He looked between it and Jupiter bemusedly. “Why? Did you fear more of these...?” His gaze drifted down to the fake, snarling head between his feet.

 

“Bears,” Jupiter supplied. She closed her eyes. “And no.”

 

“No?”

 

“Not that sort of protection.” Jupiter was exasperated to feel another giggle bubbling up in her chest. She planted her face firmly in her hands. “ _Sexual_ protection, Caine. Did you bring _condoms_?”

 

“... Oh.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“No.”

 

“Fuck.”

 

They sat in silence a moment, Caine fidgeting as he put his gun away. Jupiter now staring him down.

 

“That looks like technology,” she accursed. “You brought that but not some awesome space protection to whip out and be all, ‘Not to worry, my Queen, I have the remedy for your forgetfulness!’”

 

Caine’s eyes shifted to the side. He pursed his lips.

 

“Really? We're stuck in a cabin, a literal isolated safe-house, on a weekend designed solely for sex, and _neither_ of us brought condoms?”

 

Caine finally pointed tentatively to the cell poking out of her jeans. “We could call Stinger for some.”

 

Which was when Jupiter lost it. The giggles spilled over, leaving her gasping and shaking her head. “Hell no. That man knows too much about our sex life as it is.” Jupiter took a deep breathe and crawled towards Caine on all fours, incredibly aware of the view she was giving him. He opened his arms and his legs and didn’t relax until she was settled against him, the fire at their backs, fake fur under their hands.

 

“You know what this means then, right?” Jupiter asked, arching up to nibble at his ear.

 

“No. What does it mean, Your Majesty?”

 

“It _means_ we’ve got three long days to figure out how to get creative.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've got any (non-smut) OTP prompts you'd like me to fill feel free to tell me in the comments or send me an ask on [tumblr!](http://itsclydebitches.tumblr.com/)


	6. Raining Bees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I lost the prompt for this one (dammit) but it was something like, "Person A comforts Person B during an intense thunder storm."

“It’s too bad owning the Earth doesn’t give me a bit more control over it,” Jupiter muttered, peering as best she could out the window. She didn’t know why she was trying. The fields were nothing but a mess of gray, torrential rain right now, the occasional piece of debris shooting by for variety. The wind kept up an endless howl that had Jupiter wrapping her arms around herself, despite the relative warmth of Stinger’s home.

 

He was currently off world with T’sing, looking into a new type of planetary shield to help defend Earth. Poor Kiza had offered to pick them up some snacks… no way was she driving back in this. Jupiter only hoped she’d managed to crash at a friend’s place before the freaking tornado hit.

 

Jupiter narrowed her eyes at the storm. It had better _not_ be anything like an actual tornado.

 

“… and what the hell am I supposed to do if it is?”

 

With a sign she threw up her hands and wandered back towards the kitchen.

 

The sound of the wind faded into the background, and as it did it was replaced by a steady drone that loosened Jupiter’s shoulders and brought a smile to her face. Probably an unorthodox choice… but she couldn’t have just left the bees out in that mess, could she?

 

“Don’t go ruining Stinger’s stuff,” she admonished.

 

Jupiter was about 99% sure they could understand her by now. The second she crossed the threshold a massive cloud swept up to envelop her, bees landing lightly to tickle at her skin while others swept playfully through her hair. Jupiter let out a throaty laugh, beckoning to the stragglers until she was covered head to toe in warm, buzzy fuzziness. She dramatically shuffled forward and the bees followed suit.

 

“Ladies, gentlemen, and others,” she garbled. “You thought children were the worst things hiding out in the corn?… you were wrong! This summer, tune into your crappy B-movie channel and prepare to never look at honey the same way again. Prepare… for BEE-GIRL!”

 

Jupiter contorted her face into the expression that had once caused Vladie to wet his pants (“It was just a squirt, Jupes!”), catching sight of her own reflection in the window. She had to admit, the black, shifting mass around her, the eerier storm outside… she really did look like a monster out of a—

 

Something shattered.

 

Jupiter jerked, sweeping her arms in a command that immediately sent the bees zipping back to the rest of the kitchen. With tentative steps she made her way out towards the living room.

 

“Caine?”

 

No answer. Eyes hardening, Jupiter powered up her boots and unsheathed the knife at her belt, just in case. She didn’t think anyone was after them—at least, no one close enough to Earth to attack right now—but it didn’t hurt to be prepared. Life as a space queen had taught her that, pretty much the hard way.

 

“And wouldn’t that be just my luck,” she muttered, edging slowly around the doorjamb. “Probably nothing though. Probably just… _shit_.”

 

It was definitely something.

 

“ _Caine_.”

 

Jupiter tried to pitch her voice low, but she wasn’t so quiet that he wouldn’t have been able to hear her, even over the wind. Indeed, Jupiter saw his ears twitch once before his head ducked back beneath his arms, the rest of him curling into an impossibly tight ball. Jupiter scanned the room once (it was empty?) before running to his side.

 

There she found iron tight muscles beneath her hands, a neck and scalp that were drenched in nervous sweat. She might not get space negotiations yet, but Jupiter had run through her fair share of panic attacks before. Hers had always been fully internal, friends and family expressing surprise that she’d been going through something all those times, sitting calmly at the dinner table or on the bus, so for a second she was blindsided by Caine’s... rather stereotyped symptoms. He was even rocking slightly and it was that repetitive motion that shook something loose within Jupiter. She cursed herself and settled in beside him, fully wrapping her arms around Caine’s shoulders when he didn’t make a move to pull away.

 

“This sucks, doesn’t it?” she whispered. “I’m going to go out on a reincarnated limb here and guess that it’s the thunder? Maybe all that pounding rain? ...Right. Stupid Jupes. You don’t want me yammering on about that. Probably making things worse, aren’t I? Typical. Well listen, we can talk or not talk when you want and until then I’m just going to keep reminding you that you’re safe and there’s a whole armory in the basement in case that somehow helps any illogical anxiety. It does for me. Well, not weapons, but I always liked it when Vladie and Mama stayed in my line of sight because I couldn’t loose them if I could always see them, right? Silly little argument, but it worked. Hey, you know what else worked? Distraction. I am _so_ easily distracted it’s stupid. But you knew that already. Want to hear about how I deemed myself Bee-Girl a second ago and you missed the golden opportunity to catch that on tape? You’re slacking on your blackmail collection, Caine.”

 

Jupiter kept it up, an endless stream of conversation that didn’t mean much for her or Caine, but it gave them both something to do. He didn’t respond. Not in words of his own, but Jupiter hardly expected him to. The storm outside was still raging something fierce and with each slam of a shutter or smack of hail Jupiter could more easily imagine those sounds translating into deadly artillery. Or screams. Even orders… a whole slew of experiences she had no real understanding of. Still, she could be a presence. This wasn’t something that would fall on him in actual battle—genetically engineered not to lose focus under fire, he’d said—but if Caine wanted to take a shaky breather in the safety of the den? Bring it.

 

Jupiter stretched out her legs, settling in for the long haul.

 

It seemed she wasn’t the only one.

 

It started with just one faint buzz at the corner of her ear, a shape that was indistinguishable in the darkness. Jupiter knew the sound well though. It rose quickly, deepening, strengthening, until she felt the room’s temperature raising several degrees as thousands of bees piled inside. They hovered on their outskirts at first, as if unsure, but when Jupiter raised a hand they piled forward, swarming over her and Caine like a fuzzy, buzzy blanket.

 

Jupiter felt Caine’s shoulders shake just the tinniest bit. It might have been a laugh.

 

“There you go. You’re gonna be fine.”

 

It took time. Soon though—soon enough at least—the drone of bees overtook the sound of the storm.


	7. Rev it Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Person A of your OTP is in charge of the gate that allows automatic access to the parking lot Person B always parks in. Sometimes the gate gets stuck which forces Person B to call Person A a lot to open the gate. What Person B doesn't know is that Person A is purposely keeping the gate from opening because Person A has become attracted to Person B's voice."

“Ma’am? Excuse me, ma’am…?”

 

Jupiter didn’t hear the soft words. She was a little too busy jamming to “Uptown Funk” because the rest of the world might have forgotten this masterpiece of a song, but _she_ sure as hell hadn’t. Headphones snug around her ears, feet up on the desk, Jupiter was just getting to the best part—dragons retiring, man!—when an arm invaded her vision. A rather buff one.

 

She pushed the headphones down around her neck, “ _too hot, hot damn_ ” now echoing across the tiny office. Jupiter looked up and found 180 pounds of pure chisel leaning through her window. The rest wasn’t half bad either: scruffy blonde hair, blue eyes, more piercings than she had shoes and let me tell you, _that_ was saying something. Sitting up, Jupiter even noticed some body modifications, the most prominent of which were his pointed ears. All of that was more than enough to grab her attention.

 

“Helloooo,” she said. “And how can I help you?”

 

“Ma’am,” he started again and Jupiter was so thrown by the word choice (to say nothing of the tone) that she laughed, rudely interrupting him.

 

“Okay one, I’m no ‘ma’am.’ My mother is ‘ma’am’ when I’m three feet deep in my mistakes and trying to dig myself out. ‘Jupiter’ is what you’re looking for. And two, all purpose parking lot,” she gestured to the expanse of blacktop in front of them, “but let me guess: you’re heading to the gym, right? Not that you need it.” Jupiter winked.

 

The guy looked pretty unimpressed. “No, I don’t, because I’m a private body guard with a client list that is… rather significant.”

 

Jupiter’s eyes slid to the shady government building across the street. “Oh.”

 

“And are you always this simple?” he shot back, hand raking through his hair.

 

“Nah.” Jupiter grinned. “The rest of the time I’m getting my PhD in Cosmology.”

 

“… oh,” he echoed.

 

“Yeah.”

 

This time she really did sit up, all proper like with her feet on the floor and everything. Jupiter shut her iPod down (bye bye police and the fire man) before leaning on the sliding glass, trying to get a look at the cool brand on the guy’s neck.

 

“So we’re both assholes who make awful assumptions,” she said. “Sounds like we’re made for each other. Still doesn’t explain why you’re gracing my booth with your magnificent presence.”

 

Maybe she’d laid it on a little thick because the guy actually shuffled in place and damn, talk about breaking more stereotypes. Jupiter never would have thought someone lookin’ like him would go beet red at a bit of flirting, yet here they were.

 

The guy now meekly pointed to his car. “Your gate is stuck,” he said.

 

“Ah. Yeah, it does that sometimes.”

 

One button press later and the guy was shuffling backwards now, freedom within his sight. Jupiter hated to see him go, but loved watching him leave—a cliché that had never felt more appropriate. The guy was halfway back to his car when he stopped, turning to stare at her curiously.

 

Bingo.

 

“Jupiter?” he asked.

 

“Yep. Just like the planet.”

 

“I see...” He pointed to himself, somewhat hesitantly. “Caine. Just like the dog.”

 

Jupiter blinked. “ _Or_ like the creeper who murdered his brother.”

 

Maybe Caine hadn’t expected that. Maybe no one had pointed it out to him so bluntly before. Either way, he beat a hasty retreat back to his car, practically gunning through the now open gate in what she could only assume was mortification. Jupiter watched him go, not bothering to try and hold in her laugh.

 

Jupiter re-started the music and gave the control panel a loving pat.

 

“Oh yeah, I can work with this.”

 

***

The next day Mr. Buff Security Guard knocked on Jupiter’s window again. This time she was ready.

 

She slid the plexiglass back. “Oh no. Is it stuck again? How terrible. Well as long as you’re here why don’t you having some oatmeal with me?” Jupiter waved the instant cup under his nose.

 

Caine’s eyes narrowed. “You just happen to have a second meal with you?”

 

“I was feeling particularly hungry today.”

 

“Which also just happens to be piping hot?”

 

“You seem like the punctual type.” Jupiter shrugged innocently. “And I like it when you pop your ‘p’s.”

 

“... please open the gate, Ms. Jupiter.”

 

“That would be ‘Jones’ if you want to tack on the ‘Ms.’ but you really shouldn’t. Surely we’re on first name basis by now, right?” Still, Jupiter pressed three buttons this time—two to override her, well, override and one to actually open the gate. It swung up easily, taunting her.

 

“C’mon. Haven’t you got a last name too?” She waggled her eyebrows.

 

Ah. There was that blush again. Fantastic.

 

“Wise,” Caine murmured.

 

“The _wise_ thing to do would be to accept my awesome oatmeal.”

 

So he snatched the cup and tossed a spoonful into his mouth, all while retreating back to his car.

 

“It’s awful,” he announced, the smallest smile on his pierced lips.

 

Jupiter slapped her thigh. “That’s what I like to hear!”

 

***

 

Caine Wise honked at Jupiter Jones from the safety of his car. She knew why he was honking. He knew that she knew. There was no one else in the lot this early to bitch about their shenanigans.

 

“Ms. Jones,” he called.

 

“Jupiter!”

 

“ _Jupiter_.”

 

“Yes, dear?”

 

She nearly cackled when Caine slowly lowered his forehead onto the steering wheel. Jupiter could barely hear him now... not that she needed to. She knew what he was saying.

 

“Please open the gate.”

 

“Sorry.” She turned a page of her magazine. “There’s now a small fee for passing through my lair.”

 

Jupiter heard him snort. “You’re a troll now?”

 

“Rawr.”

 

“... and this fee is...?”

 

Jupiter gave up the pretense and threw the magazine aside. She leaned through the window with the biggest shit-eating grin of all time. “I think your phone number will do.”

 

Caine’s face looked back at her, entirely devoid of expression. So stony that for a second Jupiter thought she’d made a really horrible mistake, pushed too hard and too fast. Then it melted, just a little, and he said in a soft voice, “Six.”

 

She shook off the fear. “Six?”

 

“Yeah,” Caine revved his engine. “You said a _small_ fee. You get one digit today.”

 

The word ‘today’ turned over in Jupiter’s mind and she nodded, still smiling.

 

“Fair,” she said and slapped the button.

 

***

 

Days four through thirteen were numbers one, zero, eight, three, two, two, six, three, five.

 

Jupiter wrote them all on her forearm and was careful not to wash them off.

 

***

 

Caine pulled up to the parking lot’s entrance, only pretending to be annoyed at the closed gate. He’d gotten good at perfecting that expression the last two weeks. Caine took a moment to check his hair and piercings in the rearview mirror before swerving in his seat to glare at the office.

 

He blinked. Jupiter wasn’t there.

 

Caine only had the smallest second for something awful to plummet down through his stomach. Then his phone rang.

 

“... Hello?”

 

“New fee,” a familiar voice announced and his passenger door opened, causing Caine to jump. He gapped as Jupiter slid in next to him, shutting off her own phone. She’d replaced her usual uniform with jeans and a loose black tank.

 

“Yo,” she said, putting her feet up on the dash. “New fee, new part-time job,” she threw a finger at the office. “New...” Jupiter hesitated, “... boyfriend?”

 

Caine didn’t realize at first that she was referring to him. When he did he had to look away, a rush of heat curling up within him.

 

He coughed into a fist. “... Well, as your new... boyfriend... I can’t advocate getting into strange men’s cars.”

 

“Oh, I think a big strong body guard can protect me,” and Jupiter relaxed into the seat, something soft and relieved flitting across her face. “C’mon then. Gate’s still closed— _I_ can’t open it now—and our first joy ride is not going to be twenty feet through a parking lot.”

 

He had work. Responsibilities. He should get out of the car and go press that button himself.

 

Instead Caine turned around. He cranked up the music and let it blend with Jupiter’s laugh beside him.

 

They hit the road together.

 


	8. Our Little Black Dress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *gasp!* Could it be I'm actually writing JA fic?? Be still my own heart, it's been ages. Shout out to Readingquietly who prompted this little piece <3

“What happened?” Jupiter hissed.

 

Caine stopped, dead, one leg still hanging out the window. His hands on either side of the frame balanced him, which was a good thing given that even his strength wouldn’t allow him to hold that position for long. A wide-eyed, earnest look made it seem like he’d taken her order literally: tell Jupiter what had happened before you do _anything else._

 

Actually, that was probably exactly what he was thinking.

 

“Come in, come in...” Jupiter waved at him a little frantically, only wincing a little when muddy, booted feet plodded down on the carpet. Honestly, given the amount of her life that she’d spent cleaning, Jupiter didn’t relish doing more of it at home. Caine was a right mess.

 

Besides the mud caking his boots and half of his calves, the rest of his outfit was little more than tatters. His tunic—supposedly made of the “most durable bio-fabric this side of NGC 224, Your Majesty”—had been blasted to bits, courtesy of what appeared to be... well. A blaster. The only reason Jupiter wasn’t freaking out more was because she could see nearly all of Caine’s chest, thankfully unmarred but for a few reddish splotches, like he’d gotten a bad sunburn. And honestly, the only reason she wasn’t jumping him either was because of the remaining scarps of fabric, still smoking. It was a give and take sort of situation, keeping her balanced.

 

Yeah. Not really.

 

Jupiter looked at the choas that Caine was dragging in. Caine, with his nearly non-existent clothing. Caine, sans said appropriate clothing and just a thin door away from the rest of her family. Jupiter grabbed hold of her ponytail and gave it a sharp yank, letting the brief flash of pain clear out the panic. Everything was _fine_.

 

“You’re okay?” she demanded, just to be sure. Caine nodded. He seemed to be trying to get out of his boots without smearing more mud on the wall and wow, wasn’t that just hilarious.

 

“Fine, Your Majesty,” he murmured, glaring at his feet like they were Galactic Enemy Number One. “A small pack of rogue Keepers slipped through Earth’s defenses and T’sing sent me after them. You needn’t worry. They weren’t a true threat, they’ve merely been buying some rather powerful weaponry from some shadier dealers. We know they’re stationed somewhere near your Telesto—”

 

“My what?”

 

Caine blinked. “One of Saturn’s moons. You may know it as S/1980 S 13.”

 

“Because of course I know it by _that_ name.” Jupiter stared. “Okay, normally I love it when you talk space to me, and I’m sorry you apparently went to a gun fight with a knife—”

 

“I didn’t—”

 

“—but my whole damn family is home today and we cannot—”

 

“ _Jupiter! How long does it take you to find a scrunchie!_ ”

 

She froze, mouth working. “ _Screw you, Vladie! I haven’t worn a scrunchie since I was nine!_ ” and Jupiter was pleased to hear the yelling in the kitchen implode on itself, most of which was about her horrible, filthy mouth. Accepting the brief reprieve, Jupiter gestured to the door with a ‘do you see?’ motion. She hoped the ‘I’m sorry you’re having a rough space-day’ was also implied, but she could never be sure with Caine.

 

Sure enough, he was already shaking his head, looking contrite.

 

“I can’t go back out,” he whispered. “Your Majesty, there are reports of numerous of these Keeper groups…without my armor…” he lay a hand against his nearly bare, chiseled, beautiful chest… and Jupiter fortified herself. Now was _not_ the time.

 

She chewed at her lip. “Well you can’t stay here like this. Bad enough if Mom finds you sneaking in again, worse if she sees you dressed like that... but my shirts won’t fit over your wings... but you won’t fit under my bed...”

 

“I’m not hiding under your bed, Your Majesty,” Caine said, deadpan.

 

“You could _try_.”

 

At that moment there was the heavy clop of feet—one of the brood breaking off to see what was taking Jupiter so long. She barely managed to herd Caine into her closet before the door flew open.

 

“What are you doing, huh?” Aleksa asked, hands firmly on her hips. They’d played this game before and Jupiter was a master of it: What are you insinuating? You’re so suspicious. Jeez, can’t a girl spend some time in the room she’s usually sharing with every other woman in the house. Yeah, I’m pulling the guilt trip card, give me five minutes, alright?

 

Aleksa left with a practice eye-roll and a few choice Russian phrases. Something about women and what was becoming for her age.

 

Jupiter didn’t know at what age she ever had or would be ‘becoming,’ but at least her mom left. She tore open the closet door again—

 

—and apparently entered Narnia.

 

Or some other crazed, magical world where everything went topsy turvy. Gone was the Caine with the torn shirt and muddied pants, and in his place were bare legs... and Jupiter’s backless dress.

 

She swallowed hard.

 

Her mind, pretty much short-circuiting, managed to drum up the random fact that she’d gotten the dress in a thrift store ages back (a fantastic steal) and had been saving it for some hypothetical date before her life had actually gotten interesting. Hell, Jupiter had throught about bringing the dress out for a date with _Caine_. She just hadn’t expected him to be the one wearing it.

 

“It fits,” she said stupidly, eyeing the stretch of fabric over his shoulders. “Wow, I’m impressed.”

 

He ruffled like that was praise for him rather than the designers. Caine’s wings just barely fit into the closet. Every time he breathed the feathers nudged Jupiter’s jeans, her mom’s sweater, that god-awful shawl Nino insisted on keeping. Looking at the collection, it occurred to Jupiter in a rush of fondness why Caine had chosen her dress: it was the only thing he could wear with his wings. What a dork.

 

As if on cue, Caine stepped out and fiddled with the techno-concealer-gadget thing he kept on his wrist—very useful and _very_ cool. Within seconds his wings has shimmered and seemingly disappeared. He eyed the result in the mirror, nodding. “This will do.”

 

“You still can’t go out like that.”

 

“No?”

 

He was teasing her. Hands pressed to the black fabric clinging to his thighs, dipping forward so that the ‘v’ showed even more of his chest. Caine knew what was Earth appropriate nowadays… and still he was posing for her. Awkward, but trying. And that was a pretty sexy thing in Jupiter’s book.

 

She rose on tiptoe, catching Caine’s mouth and sliding hands over his back, fingers alternating between plucking the dress and carving through his feathers. Caine let out a full body shiver, raising the hair on Jupiter’s arms. When the knocking began, Jupiter honestly thought it was the sound of her heart.

 

“ _Hey! Did you die in there?_ ”

 

She pulled back, gasping. Jupiter took just a moment to appreciate the blush and heavy-lidded gaze Caine sported. _She’d_ put those there.

 

“The strange boyfriend climbs through my window once again,” she murmured, clinging to his waist. The dress was so wonderfully soft. “...and he was wearing a dress this time. Suppose it’s better than being half naked, but...when did you say the Aegis was getting here with more armor?”

 

“I estimate about five hours, Your Majesty.”

 

“Fantastic. You’ll have to stay for dinner then.” What a travesty.

 

“ _Jupiter!_ ”

 

She rolled her eyes skyward. “ _I’m coming!_ ” Jupiter paused, gave Caine a final once over, grinned. “ _And hey— I’ve got a surprise for you all!_ ”

 

 

 


End file.
